this march reminds me of that march.
the month my mind changed.
the month my brain weakened.
the month my world shifted.
the month my life switched.
i don’t remember all the moments.
memories are fog,
broken pieces,
puzzle parts lost.
i remember many of
the moments.
and the consequences.
the feelings?
a stranger in my own skin.
a different man waking up
inside me.
they tell me i almost died.
that my brain swelled.
that i lost so much.
but i lived.
in most ways,
i lived.
family stayed.
friends prayed.
faith held me.
faith, though
full of questions,
was, and is,
belief in the One
Who held me.
life wasn’t the same.
words disappeared.
thoughts scattered.
speech therapy.
rehab. medication.
resting, yet never
really resting.
they say i laughed less.
cried more.
speaking shifted.
moods changed.
i didn’t notice at first,
but i knew something
was missing.
someone was missing.
me.
i was missing.
long-term memory
slipping, slipping, slipping.
short-term memory
a battle every day.
names, people, places,
events lost in the haze.
but eventually
i read again.
spoke again.
thought again.
remembered again—
not as before,
much differently,
but a move forward.
toward something
and somewhere,
eventually moving.
change didn’t ask permission.
it arrived uninvited,
demanding surrender,
declaring reality.
but in the loss,
i found new life.
a different life, yes,
but a life still.
still living.
still learning.
still breathing.
still believing.
still learning to adjust.
this march reminds me
of that march.
of pain, yes.
of loss, yes.
but also of hope.
of healing.
of the hands that held me.
the God who never left me.
i guess, some types of strength,
or strengths,
actually do come
in weaknesses.
arriving there and then,
or being known better
there, then.
that month of march,
in that town,
during that year,
changed every future march
i face,
in each town,
during each year,
i march on.
not alone,
new.
not only
remember so much lost,
but rejoicing in
this month,
this march,
this me
made new.
*In march 1996 Chris was hospitalized with encephalitis, from which God graciously gave him a new life.
Beautiful. I did not know Chris 1.0, but I deeply love my friend, Chris 2.0.